A Brief Post Pondering Skepticism
I say that I'm a Christian skeptic, and I think that's a fair description. Human history is full of superstition, mistaken supernaturalism, little men running in the sugar cane at night...shhh, listen, I hear them scurrying in the dark!
In a recent Skeptic column in Scientific American, Michael Shermer's monthly piece, I read how scientific knowledge, in one case fundamental descriptions of the chemical component to consciousness, does not mean one must abandon wonder for the self or the universe. Also, Shermer writes how viewing the faint Andromeda light moves him to tears; not because the bare smudge in his telescope has intrinsinc beauty, but because he knows the galaxy's astronomic age and distance from him, its viewer.
Two things come to mind: one is that I agree because we have given some chemical neurotransmitters names, because we see they affect mood and accompany body events like orgasm or eating chocolate, does not mean our wonder should diminish. The fact that a chemical, interacting with who knows what else, in brain processes even science does not perceive much less understand, causes the mental state of pleasure in a sentient being is cause for tremendous wonder. The complexity of that phenomenon is staggering; there is no language for it short of the mathematical and it will not do. Fact is, the cellular and enzymatic functions of my liver alone, much better understood and described than those of the brain, are exquisite, precise, profound. Shermer ascribes all of it to natural selection. We developed these amazing apparatus because we needed them. He doesn't quite venerate natural selection, but he comes close. I suppose in his own way, he would.
It is possible; it's even more astounding that rational life formed according to natural processes than the presence of ten thousand galaxies. But all of it, the size of the known universe, the vastness of the galactic clusters, the wonder of human consciousness, the interdependent electrical/molecular complexity of biological life, all of it pushes toward the teleological argument. Where did this come from? And more to the point, how is the universe so mathematically elegant, the human soul both tenacious and despairing, poetic and chaotic? Modern skepticism is a response to what humans have believed in and feared for millenia, the supernatural, an afterlife, ghosts, god or gods, sacrifice, moral code. Is some of it hokey? Sure. Is all of it?
The closer I look at quantum or at biology, and I haven't looked very close, the more I am astounded by the world of nature. Human science only describes one very small piece of what we can see; no one knows how big the full physical picture will be, let alone how or why it works. Is this all accident? The result of amazing laws which have no origin; not just no explanable or known origin, but no origin whatever, no thing more complex than what we ourselves are? Perhaps.
But the question of mind behind organized and creative matter is not easily dismissed. In a previous essay Shermer points out that the brain amazes us because we can't see it work the same way we see our heart work, for example, or some other bodily organ. Yet even if someday we can see the brain 'work' fully this is less of a miracle than the fact that we experience it working all the time. The product of my brain is not the same thing as the product of my kidneys. One produces me and the other produces my piss. My consciousness is unique from all matter, even if that matter sustains, influences or supports it. Even if it produces it.
I have to look at the still unknown complexities of such a system in awe. And awe, for many, is not far from belief.
***
EFM has started and I'm no less busy than I was. Mikey came down with a cold today and so we got to spend one glorious day with all three of us at home, Steph cooking, me eating and folding laundry...I have a beautiful family. What a gift they are.
EFM frightens me. The toughest thing for me about Jesus is his Jewishness. No, I'm not anti-semitic; I'm not talking about a race of people, but about an ancient religion. The Torah and its gross deficiencies, eating codes, uncleanness from the outside. That. Now I get to read it all (admittedly for the first time) and try to make some sense of it and of Jesus' recorded attitude towards it. Why would God send his emissary (assuming Jesus was the only one; there may have been others and I mean no blasphemy) to this group of people, this cramped religion, this place? Hard questions.
I'm doing okay all. Work is still hard and plenty of things aren't resolved from last semester. But S and I are growing closer. My (step)son, even at grumpy 13, is still beautiful inside and out, and I'm lucky to know him. I'm healing. Amazing. I know I say this blog is about telling that story and I've hardly told any of it yet, but I pray (genuinely) I will have the time between family and work and church to trickle it out.
Love to all. I'm behind in everyone's blogs, but I'll catch up. Beautiful souls in the margin.
Troy
In a recent Skeptic column in Scientific American, Michael Shermer's monthly piece, I read how scientific knowledge, in one case fundamental descriptions of the chemical component to consciousness, does not mean one must abandon wonder for the self or the universe. Also, Shermer writes how viewing the faint Andromeda light moves him to tears; not because the bare smudge in his telescope has intrinsinc beauty, but because he knows the galaxy's astronomic age and distance from him, its viewer.
Two things come to mind: one is that I agree because we have given some chemical neurotransmitters names, because we see they affect mood and accompany body events like orgasm or eating chocolate, does not mean our wonder should diminish. The fact that a chemical, interacting with who knows what else, in brain processes even science does not perceive much less understand, causes the mental state of pleasure in a sentient being is cause for tremendous wonder. The complexity of that phenomenon is staggering; there is no language for it short of the mathematical and it will not do. Fact is, the cellular and enzymatic functions of my liver alone, much better understood and described than those of the brain, are exquisite, precise, profound. Shermer ascribes all of it to natural selection. We developed these amazing apparatus because we needed them. He doesn't quite venerate natural selection, but he comes close. I suppose in his own way, he would.
It is possible; it's even more astounding that rational life formed according to natural processes than the presence of ten thousand galaxies. But all of it, the size of the known universe, the vastness of the galactic clusters, the wonder of human consciousness, the interdependent electrical/molecular complexity of biological life, all of it pushes toward the teleological argument. Where did this come from? And more to the point, how is the universe so mathematically elegant, the human soul both tenacious and despairing, poetic and chaotic? Modern skepticism is a response to what humans have believed in and feared for millenia, the supernatural, an afterlife, ghosts, god or gods, sacrifice, moral code. Is some of it hokey? Sure. Is all of it?
The closer I look at quantum or at biology, and I haven't looked very close, the more I am astounded by the world of nature. Human science only describes one very small piece of what we can see; no one knows how big the full physical picture will be, let alone how or why it works. Is this all accident? The result of amazing laws which have no origin; not just no explanable or known origin, but no origin whatever, no thing more complex than what we ourselves are? Perhaps.
But the question of mind behind organized and creative matter is not easily dismissed. In a previous essay Shermer points out that the brain amazes us because we can't see it work the same way we see our heart work, for example, or some other bodily organ. Yet even if someday we can see the brain 'work' fully this is less of a miracle than the fact that we experience it working all the time. The product of my brain is not the same thing as the product of my kidneys. One produces me and the other produces my piss. My consciousness is unique from all matter, even if that matter sustains, influences or supports it. Even if it produces it.
I have to look at the still unknown complexities of such a system in awe. And awe, for many, is not far from belief.
***
EFM has started and I'm no less busy than I was. Mikey came down with a cold today and so we got to spend one glorious day with all three of us at home, Steph cooking, me eating and folding laundry...I have a beautiful family. What a gift they are.
EFM frightens me. The toughest thing for me about Jesus is his Jewishness. No, I'm not anti-semitic; I'm not talking about a race of people, but about an ancient religion. The Torah and its gross deficiencies, eating codes, uncleanness from the outside. That. Now I get to read it all (admittedly for the first time) and try to make some sense of it and of Jesus' recorded attitude towards it. Why would God send his emissary (assuming Jesus was the only one; there may have been others and I mean no blasphemy) to this group of people, this cramped religion, this place? Hard questions.
I'm doing okay all. Work is still hard and plenty of things aren't resolved from last semester. But S and I are growing closer. My (step)son, even at grumpy 13, is still beautiful inside and out, and I'm lucky to know him. I'm healing. Amazing. I know I say this blog is about telling that story and I've hardly told any of it yet, but I pray (genuinely) I will have the time between family and work and church to trickle it out.
Love to all. I'm behind in everyone's blogs, but I'll catch up. Beautiful souls in the margin.
Troy
Comments
And then having a child with special needs forced me to turn to him fully in some areas because my back was up against a wall. There was no way to turn. I couldn't solve a birth defect on my own. So I pressed in and started listening for God's voice. Before I would always get distracted but here there were no distractions, no other options.
I knew I was hearing when I began to be compelled to ask people for forgiveness (my in-laws!) people who had hurt me but against whom I too had sinned. And so I went around for a while asking for forgiveness. Up until then I valued my pride above a pure heart. But I needed to hear God and I knew this sin was getting in the way of that. I needed to be able make good choices for my son and only God knew what those were.
Only one person asked for forgiveness from me when I repented to her. The others were gracious enough to forgive me but didn't feel equally convicted. That was a kick to the pride but it didn't kill me.
And I began to hear God.He led us into some crazy things, places way beyond our comfort. He asked us to take huge risks. And so we did. For a time it felt like we were walking off a cliff, stepping out into thin air. And so we walked and didn't fall and found we were on solid ground. Miracles happened.
In some areas my faith was very deep but it wasn't wide. I still held back my heart and didn't even know it.
Then a terrible tragedy happened to a friend. Her baby died. This wasn't her first life sorrow and was terrible, senseless. I just didn't get it and it looked like God didn't either. I pointed some things out to him, ran some numbers and told him the situation was too much, rotten.
This didn't change anything though. My wrestling with God didn't ease my friend's suffering. I prayed and prayed for this woman and felt compelled to tell God I would trust him regardless in this terrible mystery. And so I did.
This was the chink in the dam of my fear and distrust. His love began to flow and opened it wider and eventually burst the walls.
There is still so much I don't understand, so much mystery but after being a Christian for 30 years I am beginnging to know him.
I didn't intend to write such a long a** comment. Just started talking.
What is EFM?
wow. This is the other side of what I was flailing at in my own post: instead of abstract reason, you desribe intense personal trust. I think your post is better, really.
EFM stands for Education for Ministry; it's seminary lite (really lite, no grades or papers) and offered through the Episcopal Church. I should have linked to it. Thanks for asking.
All the best, Alison. I wish I had time to respond to your wonderful comment further.
t
I was hoping that EFM might stir up a post or two like this. I always dig reading your musings on such matters. Like you, I wrestle, though not as much as I used to I suppose, with similar issues.
I'm nearly done reading the OT for the first time. Being raised a Catholic, I found comfort in its verses describing what appeared to be a punishing God, for it jived with what I was being taught in mass.
But Jesus, he turned things upside down for me and that ancient religion. Where do bible difficulties end and biblical truth start? I don't know. But if I keep reading the Word, praying and thinking, my mind as well as my heart will find satisfaction in Him and in pursuit of His truth.
And that snapshot of the three of you home together, awesome. You truly do have a beautiful family.
Peace, brother.
For me it was surrender. To trust, especially when he seemed so untrustworthy, blew my doubt away and the love poured in. I began to hear God so clearly and to see how he had been there for me and loved me and guided me. He healed me.
I realized I didn't fully love God while riding in the car. Several things my mind and spirit had been processing came together and I saw I didn't fully love him because I didn't completely trust him. The realization of this foundational fear and glimpsing what it had cost in all my relationships especially with my husband took my breath away and I began to weep.
Paul was driving and asked what was going on. To the best of my ability I told him.
He listened and then said, "The good thing is, since love is a choice you can choose to love him."
Outside the car and months past that conversation I can see the wisdom and beauty of that, the truth. At the time all I could hear was, "And it's all your fault."
"You know 30 seconds ago I figured out I don't love Jesus despite the fact I've been a Christian since I was five. Would you give me a minute!"
Once I stopped crying and resumed normal breathing I knew he was right and that it was my only hope.
I had chosen to forgive before. I could choose to love.
My prayers were awkward "Um, I love you." I am still learning.
Like your buddy, C.S. Lewis, I was surprised by joy. It took my breath away. I started to see how I can live with hateful people and situations. How I don't have to be afraid. I know he sees me. I know he loves me. I don't have to push myself forward. I can just be. And I can be with you,(the general you) because I'm not competing anymore, just stretching towards where he is calling me.
At the moment he is calling me to bed.
Respond when you can, if ever.
I think I am done dominating your comment section for the day.
Peace Peace Peace.
Alison
We still refer to the heart in ways that science has disproven - speaking of it as the center of feeling, intuition, character, etc. I have a feeling it will be just so with the brain. There is a "me" behind the me...I am not just organs.
Anyway, interesting thoughts. Peace.